


Masquerade

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Costume Parties & Masquerades, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wall Sex, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 09:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: The invitation assigned Crowley to dress as an angel. He didn't expect to encounter Aziraphale dressed as a demon





	Masquerade

Crowley smirked as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was dressed all in white, down to his shoes. Truthfully he’d taken more than a few cues from Aziraphale, even if he was supposed to be evoking what humans thought of angels more than anything else. The theme for this masquerade was heaven and hell and his invitation called for him to represent heaven.

He tried not to think too much about the irony in that.

But there was some tempting to be done. He picked up his mask and made his way out. If he’d desired it would’ve been easy enough to change the invitation. But he wanted to pretend, at least a little. It was only for a few hours, after all.

Arriving at the mansion hosting the event, Crowley put on his mask. He took a breath and made his way inside. It was an interesting swirl of black and white, plain white masks and dark ones with faces twisted into scowls and leers.

Demons did, generally, have more fun.

He sauntered around the party, nudging a man to have another drink, quietly encouraging a woman to give in to temptation. These events were always easy pickings; the combination of anonymity, wealth and pleasure was a heady mix.

As he circled around towards the garden he startled into stillness. _Ngk_. He’d recognize that soft tuft of white-blonde hair anywhere, even if he didn’t also recognize the familiar presence. He was dressed all in black, with a small pair of horns perched improbably on his head. His demon mask was plainer than some of the others, but he did wear it. Before Crowley could turn around, Aziraphale looked his way.

Crowley stayed rooted to the ground as Aziraphale abandoned his current conversation partner and walked purposefully towards him. Maybe it was the costume, but he wore an easy confidence that was honestly dead sexy.

“Fancy meeting you here,” said Aziraphale, voice teasing.

“Well they only invite the best,” said Crowley, trying to play it cool.

Aziraphale reached out and touched his arm. “You look as though you could use some fresh air,” he said, something promising in his voice.

Crowley had no objections as Aziraphale led the way outside.

The air did help a bit, but the only thing he could see was Aziraphale. He seemed to melt into the darkness, save his hair. Crowley felt exposed, as if anyone could spot him from miles away.

Aziraphale led him to a quiet spot behind some outbuildings and protected by hedges. He crowded Crowley against the building’s wall. “Shall I tempt you?” he asked.

That probably shouldn’t make Crowley’s knees go weak, but it did.

Aziraphale started to lift his mask, but Crowley stilled his hand. “Keep it on,” he said quietly.

Nodding, Aziraphale moved his hands to Crowley’s slender hips. He held him for a moment as if trying to decide what to do, then flipped him over with hidden strength.

Aziraphale reached to open Crowley’s trousers. Biting back a groan, Crowley helped him, shoving them down his thighs, gasping as the cool night air reached his effort.

“Beautiful,” murmured Aziraphale.

Crowley hadn’t been beautiful since before he fell. No matter what costume he might be wearing, he was certainly no angel now.

“Tonight, for the moment, you’re my angel,” said Aziraphale softly, reading his feelings in the hitch of his breath.

“Aziraphale,” said Crowley, blinking back tears. Demons certainly did not cry.

Softly, Aziraphale ran soothing hands down his sides, clearly trying to decide if he should stop this whole game.

“No, go on,” said Crowley.

There was the sound of Aziraphale removing his mask and dropping it to the ground. He leaned in and kissed the back of Crowley’s neck as he released his own effort. Crowley groaned as Aziraphale quickly opened him.

Aziraphale held Crowley’s hips as he pushed into him. Crowley dropped his head, panting. He wanted Aziraphale to take him, wanted to be held and claimed and overwhelmed. Aziraphale moved slowly, kissing his throat, nibbling his ear.

There was a quiet rushing sound as Aziraphale loosened his wings, shielding them from the night. He wrapped his arms around Crowley and held him, indulging in the most human of pleasures.

For the briefest of moments sides didn’t matter. They were one in the holiest of ways.

Aziraphale’s hand stroked Crowley’s effort. He murmured in his ear wordless praises and assurances.

Groaning, Crowley spilled over Aziraphale’s hand, knees finally giving out. Azirphale held him as he reached his own climax, panting into his shoulder.

Finally, he carefully pulled out. They both quickly adjusted their trousers. Aziraphale smiled and turned Crowley back around. He lifted his mask and kissed him tenderly.

Crowley couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. He reached out and gently ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s feathers. “Come back to mine?” He asked.

Aziraphale brushed back Crowley’s hair as he tucked his wings away. “Yes.”

Crowley leaned down and picked up Aziraphale’s mask. “Let’s go out the back way, angel.”

Aziraphale nodded and took off Crowley’s mask, carrying it for him.

An angel and a demon made their way out the back gate. For a moment, in the darkness, it was nearly impossible to tell which was which.

**Author's Note:**

> much thanks to hoom_hums and astudyinfic for reading over. You can find me on twitter at merindab


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